


The Devil's Magpies

by Redwood_Writer



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23325472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redwood_Writer/pseuds/Redwood_Writer
Summary: "Magpies are closely related to Crows."Dee Henley hand-picked her girls from the streets of California, giving them all the one thing they needed the most: a family. All she asked for in return was their undying loyalty.When they're forced to relocate to the town of Charming, their survival depends on an alliance with a notorious M.C., forcing the girls to adapt to new challenges, and new allies.
Relationships: Brooke Putner/Ratboy Skogstrom, Happy Lowman/Original Character(s), Happy Lowman/Original Female Character(s), Tig Trager/Venus Van Dam
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	1. "It is good luck if a Magpie jumps into the path of a traveler."

“Alright girls,” Dee spoke, her low voice cutting the tension, “Here they come.” She raised a hand, her long, pointed, black fingernails hooking over the arm of her aviators, pulling them down so that she could peer over the tops. She nodded in the direction that they were already focused on, indicating where their targets would be approaching from.

Rocco felt her nerves ignite with adrenaline, the rush threatening to propel her forward. She held her position, though, steadying her breath under the cover of the tree line. Always the soldier, she was never one to jump the gun.

“Remember,” Dee continued, her commanding voice no louder than a whisper but still holding enough weight to demand authority, “The van is the target, that’s where the cargo is.” She reached down to start up her bike, the engine humming to life. The modified exhaust created a low purr, the rumble low and quiet enough to avoid detection. “Don’t hurt anyone too badly,” She added, throwing a smirk Taz’s way, “We’re here to show them what we can do. We want allies, not enemies.” Taz rolled her eyes, the blonde clearly not very impressed that she wasn’t allowed to maim anyone.

The four remaining women started their bikes in order, going down the line one at a time so that they didn’t make a noticeable sound. They’d all been modified in the same way, so the five bikes purred with a deep, low rumble as opposed to the usual roar of Harley engines.

“How many, Roc?” Bandit asked, her voice barely audible. She leaned over her Harley, squinting as if she’d be able to see around the corner.

Rocco tore her dark eyes away from the exact point where she knew she’d catch the first glimpse of their mark, having already scoped out their expected route from a little ways down the road. “Five.” She spoke flatly, her tone completely void of any emotion. Her focus was solely on the mission ahead, so everything else, like manners and courtesy, took a backseat. “Three in front, two behind.”

She paused for a moment, raising a brow in the direction of her president, her next words meant for the slightly older woman. “Some big dudes, Pres.” She added, questioning Dee’s plan. Dee nodded in response, a smirk tugging at her perfectly plumped lips.

“What’s the matter, Roc?” She asked, raising her own impossibly sharp brow in return, “Afraid of the big bad bikers?” She taunted, earning her an irritated eye roll and a raised middle finger from her stone-faced Road Captain. Rocco opened her mouth to retort, but shut it quickly when she noticed Bandit nodding in the direction that her gaze had been previously attached.

She watched, holding her breath and narrowing her eyes as the sunlight caught the first bike, the gleam on the chrome blinding for a moment as the roar of the engines drifted toward them where they hid in the trees. She threw each of her companions a glance before leaning over her bike, her slender frame matching the contours of the vehicle perfectly, her eyes glued to the front wheel of the bike she was watching, waiting for it to hit her marker.

Once that front tire passed the signpost she’d picked out, Rocco revved her engine, releasing her brake and propelling her bike from the cover of the trees. The rest of the women followed in a ‘v’ formation, all of them focused on the task at hand. Rocco nodded to Bandit, who, along with Taz, slowed their bikes and changed course to Rocco’s left to intercept the two riders behind the van. Mona and Dee did the same to Rocco’s right, heading for the two riders in front of the van, who Rocco assumed were the higher ranking members of the club.

Rocco’s own target was the other rider in front, the plan being to take down the riders first. Take away the protection, and then chase the loot. She leaned close to her bike, her skin almost touching the warmed metal of the fuel tank as she took a deep breath, her eyes glued to her target.

He’d been the first to spot their ambush, and Rocco could already tell he was beginning to formulate his own plan of defense. She felt her lips twist into a smirk. Clearly, she’d picked a worthy opponent, and she loved nothing more than a challenge.

Had she paid attention to her VP, she’d have seen Mona jam a metal rod between the spokes of one of the bikes’ front wheel, sending the rider hurtling over his handlebars and to the ground with a string of curses and snarls before she sped off to join Dee on taking down who Rocco assumed was the President of the MC.

But her mind was fixed on her prey and she narrowed her eyes further as it seemed the tattooed man was going to call her bluff. She huffed when it appeared he wasn’t going to dodge her, and she swerved between his bike and the van and rode around to the back of the vehicle. She re-routed to come back around the van to her earlier position, going over ‘plan B’ in her mind as she did.

Bandit had made short work of the smaller biker behind the van, who was off in the distance trying to pick up his bike while Bandit caught up to Taz, who seemed to be having a little more trouble with the other. The guy was easily the biggest of all of them, and was currently riding furiously to catch up to Taz as well. Rocco noticed something glinting in the sunlight on his leg, and it took her a moment to process that it was Taz’s favorite small hunting knife sticking out of the man’s thigh. She sighed, her instinct to reprimand Taz, but she had a target that was getting away, so she had to let the responsibility fall to Bandit as she sped past the three of them, her focus shifting back to her own mark.

Unfortunately for her, the heavily tattooed biker had expected her to return, and his foot shot out as she neared him again to kick at her front wheel. She pulled her handlebars in the opposite direction to try to regain her balance, but she’d slowed a little while her concentration was pulled, meaning the jolt sent her crashing into the side of the van. She jerked the bike the other way, trying desperately to regain her control when her bike skidded out from underneath her, sending her flying to the tarmac and the bike skidding down the road. She caught the triumphant look on the guy’s face as she sat up, panting and wiping at the blood from the cut in her lip she’d just acquired.

Snarling, she jumped up, checked herself over to make sure nothing was broken and jogged over to her bike, grabbing it and pulling it up quickly. She watched her opponent turn his attention to his President, who was currently in a game of chase with her own, as she swung her leg back over her bike, revving the engine and beginning her pursuit again.

With only three of them left unshaken, they were outnumbered by the girls, so Rocco shifted her focus to the van carrying their now unprotected cargo. She pulled up alongside the back tire, keeping the driver’s pace and pulling out a small pocket knife, hitting the tire a few times before falling back to do the other side at the front. She hung back again, whistling loudly for Taz to come and help her guard their loot as the van slowed to a stop.

The driver got out as she stopped her bike, climbing off and kicking down the kickstand as she dug in her pocket for her phone.

“I don’t think so.” The driver snapped, though the skinny guy with the crazy eyes looked a little nervous as he raised his gun. Rocco reached into her jacket to pull her own from its holster in return, taking advantage of the slight falter of the man as he realized she was female. She hit his wrist with the grip of her gun, knocking his to the ground while her other arm whipped up to grasp his still outstretched arm. She twisted his arm, forcing him to his knees facing away from her as the smaller man that Bandit had chased down caught them up.

“Don’t even think about it,” She barked as he reached for his gun, and she pressed the barrel of her own against the van driver’s temple. “Put it on the ground.” She ordered as Taz reached them, jumping off her bike and aiming her gun at the newcomer. Rocco nodded her head toward him as he complied, silently telling Taz to bring him over to be held captive as well. She set her gaze toward the rest of the ambush as she pulled out her phone, punching the speed dial number she’d set up for Ringo.

After a couple of seconds, she heard the familiar quiet purr of muffled Harley exhausts, signalling that their backup was on the way to guard the van. She whistled again, loud enough this time for Dee and Mona to hear, the two of them circling back around to come over to where they had stopped the van at the side of the road, abandoning their chase for now.

The roar of an engine caught Rocco’s attention, and she looked around to see the man that Mona had ran off his bike heading for their group, his face contorted with rage and his wild curls bouncing around underneath his helmet as he stomped toward them, gun raised.

“You’re outnumbered, Sweetie.” Ringo’s sweet voice called out as she, Mykie, Beau and the twins surrounded the guy, who kept his gun trained on Rocco regardless. Rocco fought the urge to shudder under the man’s animalistic gaze. She knew he’d have no reservations about shooting her dead right there and then. Luckily for her, he didn’t get the chance, because his own President joined the group, followed by Dee and Mona, the three of them getting off their bikes to join the altercation.

“What the bloody hell is all this?” The Pres demanded, his accent taking Rocco off guard almost as much as the scars on his cheeks.

“Put your guns down, Ladies.” Dee instructed, ignoring the President’s question. She turned her attention toward Rocco and Taz, who still had the driver and the smaller guy on their knees. “Let them up. We’re not here to fight.” She spoke, to which they both lowered their guns, taking a step away from the men and allowing them to re-join their own club.

The curly haired VP spoke then, fury lacing his tone and his gun still raised, though this time he swung it around to aim at Dee instead, deducing she was in charge. “Could’ve fooled me.” He seethed, looking to his President, who had a brow raised at Dee.

“What are ye here for?” He asked, his tone exasperated more than anything else. Clearly, the man didn’t have time for this. “And who decided that comin’ to Charmin’ and challengin’ us was a great idea?” He added, his voice filled with sarcasm.

Dee was completely unfazed by the angry VP, and she focused her words solely on the President. “Just wanted to get your attention, Pres.” She said, not menacingly, but not sweetly, either. “I heard that’s a hard thing to do nowadays.” She commented, irritating the guy, who obviously already had quite a lot on his plate.

“Well,” He answered, taking a step toward Dee to close the gap between them, causing Rocco to stiffen a little at his menacing gait, “Ye got it.” He held her stare for a moment, his dark eyes burning into her aviators. “Now what do ye want?” Dee’s lips twisted into a tiny smirk, and she lowered her glasses, her eyes travelling the length of the man’s body and back again before answering. She dragged the action out, as if she was purposely trying to take up his time.

“A sit down.” She said simply. “We want to work with you.” She turned her attention toward the VP for a moment, narrowing her eyes as she nodded in his direction. “Make some friends.” She added, chuckling a little. The VP gave her a snarl in return, but didn’t get a chance to retort before she was speaking again. “You’ve seen what we can do, though this wasn’t our best work,” She said, almost approvingly, “You guys are tougher than your reputation suggests, if that’s possible.” She added, her words serving to show the man that she was in admiration of his club. “We want to work with you.” She repeated with a shrug, letting the offer hang between them.

Rocco watched the President mull over Dee’s request, working out what was in it for his club, no doubt. While he was thinking, her gaze wandered, and she caught the eye of her tattooed opponent from earlier. He narrowed his eyes at her, showing her that he was probably going to hold a grudge. Rocco was good at grudges, so the thought that she’d gotten under his skin made her smirk.

“Alright,” The Scottish President spoke finally, regaining Rocco’s attention. “I’ll give ye yer meetin’, but only because ya all had the balls to show me how big yer hypothetical dicks are.” Dee’s lips curled into a triumphant smile, and she stuck her hand out to shake on it. “Come by the ice cream parlor in town, tomorrow afternoon.” He told her, to which she nodded, letting his hand go.

“Thanks for your time, _Pres_.” She said, putting emphasis on the last word, challenging again. The scot gave her a nod, though his expression told Rocco he was debating whether Dee was trustworthy or not.

“Successful mission.” Dee said as she returned to her club, her long half-black-half-white hair trailing behind her as she spun around. The Scotsman turned to return to his own club, only stopped by his VP’s exclamation.

“What about the van?” He huffed, irritated that his President had given into the demands of their attackers.

Rocco piped up again, then. “You carry a tire pump?” She asked, nodding toward the back doors of the van. The VP nodded slightly, still glaring. “I only did a couple of small punctures,” She went on, her eyes flickering toward the tattooed man, whose steely gaze was frightening her far more than the rage filled VP, “We can patch it up in no time.” She nodded to Mykie, who had already produced the small puncture kit from her saddlebag.

“Of course, we’ll cover the cost of the new tires.” Dee added, earning an approving nod from the Scot, much to the annoyance of the VP.

“We’ll see ya tomorrow,” The President spoke, lighting a cigarette as the girls got to work repairing the tires. “Come on, Tigger.” He addressed his VP, calling him over to their group of Harleys parked at the side of the road to wait while the girls repaired their van.


	2. A Deal With The Devil Is A Deal With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter has taken me so long, hopefully those who read the first chapter have held on for this update! <3

"An ice cream parlour," Beau commented, raising a brow before pulling a face of approval, "Suppose it's an obscure cover for outlaws." Ringo let out a chuckle as they all parked their bikes across the street from the line of gleaming Harley's that sat in front of the store.  
Rocco's eyes had already begun scanning the street, as always, assessing her surroundings. She'd been suspicious from a young age, but her years on the streets had amped up her paranoia.

As her gaze travelled the street, her eyes fell on the store front again, and she caught a glimpse of the tattooed biker from yesterday. She felt something stir in her at the sight of him, but she chalked it up to healthy competition rather than letting her thoughts wander down any other avenues.

"We got a plan here?" She asked, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as she directed a raised brow Dee's way. This earned her a chorus of groans from her counterparts, and Mona huffed a sigh, running a hand through her hair.

"Why do you always need a plan?" She quipped, though her British accent made it sound more like an insult than a sly joke. Rocco ignored her question, turning her attention back to the store front. She mulled this business venture over in her mind as she smoked, waiting for the others to gather themselves.

"Alright, come on." Dee spoke after a moment, climbing off her bike and leading the girls across the street to the store. Rocco flicked away her cigarette end, climbing off her own bike and fixing her jacket, which had crumpled a little from riding.

"Ladies," The Scotsman greeted as they filed inside the ice cream parlour, their eyes roaming around the place to try to discern the appeal. The man sounded bored as hell; though Rocco was sure his sarcastic, disinterested tone was his usual means of communication.

She felt her gaze shift toward the bald, tattooed man again; the flash on his chest that she could now read telling her that he was 'Sgt at Arms' for the M.C. He didn't return her gaze, though, his dark stare fixed firmly on Dee, who was smirking at the Pres again, clearly intrigued by the man with the scars on his face.

"Picave Diablo..." The Scotsman spoke, reading the club's name on her vest. She gave him a slight nod, unspeaking.

"Devil's Magpies." The raspy voice took Rocco completely off guard as she realised it had come from the man her eyes had been glued to since she'd entered the store.

"You can translate Latin?" She asked, incredulously. She was speaking out of turn, she knew, but she was gobsmacked; not a lot of people knew Latin in this day and age. She herself only knew that one phrase because of the club. The bald man didn't shrug, didn't move, except for his eyes, which turned their dark stare toward Rocco.

"I can do a lot of things." He said simply, his somewhat menacing tone sending a jolt up her spine. This man was dangerous; she could feel it in her bones. The scarred man's eyes had landed on Rocco as she'd spoken, and he'd smirked when he'd seen her reaction to his Sgt.

"Shall we?" He asked, turning his attention back to Dee, his tone more amused now that his club clearly had the effect he'd wanted on the women.

He motioned toward a staircase while Dee gave a curt nod. "Who shall I bring?" She asked, looking around at her girls.

"Officers." The Scotsman spoke, his own eyes following Dee's, landing on each flash on each chest they travelled over.

"Treasurer and Road Captain?" Dee asked, wanting to be clear. Rocco and Tal were usually a grey area; most of the information they got was on a 'need to know' basis.

"Aye, why not." The Scot spoke, giving Rocco a smile. She wasn't sure if the gesture was sarcasm or not. The Pres was a hard man to read.

Dee nodded again, motioning to Mona and Bandit to follow her, as always. "Tal, Roc," She ordered, signalling them to follow as she herself followed the Pres toward the staircase, leaving Beau and Ringo in the store. Rocco felt her gaze shift involuntarily back to the tattooed biker as she passed him where he stood at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes fixed on each of them as they came close to him.

It was as if he was reading their minds, as if just his stare could tell him anything he needed to know about them. Perhaps he was remembering their faces, gathering every little detail. The thought made Rocco's skin prickle. Her unease was made worse by how closely he followed her up the stairs, and she wondered if he was purposely just inside her personal space, intentionally making her feel uneasy.

"Sit," The Scotsman spoke as they all reached the top of the stairs, passing through a door into the large, well-lit room with barely any furnishings but a massive table by the window. The curly haired VP was already sat at the table, along with the large biker that Rocco recognized as the one Taz had stabbed in the leg and the smaller guy as well.

Rocco followed her Pres, who sat down at the table where the Scot had indicated at the opposite end from him, but only after he sat. She kept her eyes glued to the tattooed man as he took the seat to his President's right, leaving only a couple of chairs between them.

"Introductions, yeah?" Scotty spoke again once everyone was comfortable, "Obviously, ye know who we are," He raised a brow, which Dee returned, keeping up her air of confidence despite being in someone else's territory.

"Of course," She answered, flashing the Scotsman a slight smirk, "Your reputation precedes you."

The Scot nodded, whether in approval or mockery, Rocco couldn't tell. "Chibs." He introduced himself. "My VP," He raised an arm to place his hand on the man's shoulder, "Tig." Tig, unlike his Pres, didn't look in any way amused or excited by the idea of working with the girls, in fact, he was looking even more pissed than yesterday. Still, he kept his piercing blue eyes trained on Dee's, staring a hole in her head, or at least trying to.

"Happy," Chibs spoke again, this time raising his right arm to indicate his Sgt. at Arms to his right, the man Rocco had been so intrigued by. So now she had a name, a name she wondered about, because this guy was anything but. She assumed it was an ironic nickname, and fought the smirk off, trying to keep herself professional.

"Quinn, our treasurer and Montez, Road Captain." Chibs motioned down the table toward the two men, who nodded on introduction, not giving away any emotions. Dee nodded politely as he made each introduction, smirking slightly at the VP, who she already knew she'd enjoy tormenting.

"Dee," she introduced, starting the same way and going through her own crew in the same order. "Mona, VP. Bandit, Sgt. Tal and Rocco." She finished off, to which Rocco gave a nod in the direction of the president. She'd spotted Happy rolling his eyes at the nicknames; clearly, he wasn't impressed at the cliché. She raised a brow at that. She'd assumed that all of their names had been nicknames, bar Quinn and Montez, which were obviously surnames. Perhaps 'Happy' was his actual name, which only served to pique her interest further. She snapped out of her thoughts when Dee spoke again.

"We're an M.C., same as you, but with tits." She explained, flashing Tig a wink as she added the last part. "Picave Diablo, 'Devil's Magpies'," She cast a glance at Happy, since he'd already translated their club's name downstairs. "We're new in town," Dee's attention slowly came back to Chibs' who already looked bored, "Figured making alliances with the infamous Sons of Anarchy would be a smart move."

Chibs raised a brow. "And ye figured jackin' our deliveries would put ye in good books, aye?" He asked, sarcasm filling his tone as he brought his hand up to stroke his goatee. Rocco assumed he was sussing them out, wondering what their offer would be. The man quite clearly had a lot of patience, though. He'd let them make the offer, rather than giving it to them.

Dee shook her head. "I figured that you'd want alliances with big balls," She corrected, "If we're not afraid of you, we're not afraid of your competition." She explained her reasoning.

Chibs sighed, dropping his hand. "So what is it ye wanna do fer us?" He asked, his gaze locked on Dee's eyes.

"Whatever you need us for." Dee shrugged. She wasn't looking for money or guns or anything like that. She was looking for friends, allies, protection. "I want to strike a bond, here." She added, motioning between the two of them with her hands. "Do favours for you," She shrugged again, "Maybe gain some in return."

Chibs frowned. That, he hadn't expected. Most clubs would want something, money, guns, drugs. He thought it over for a moment, staring right through Dee as he mulled it over. After the silence hung in the room for a little too long, he finally sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"No offence, love," He said, his voice sounding a little exasperated, "But yer-"

"Women?" Dee interjected, knowing exactly where he was headed with it. The Pres gave her a nod, confirming that was exactly what he was going to say. "We can be just as beneficial to you, if not more, than any other club." She assured him, going right into her speech that Rocco had heard a handful of times. "My girls grew up on the streets. They know how to fight and they know how to survive." She told Chibs, her tone powerful, as if she were giving a marketing presentation. "We've learned to adapt, to be just as much of a threat as any man," She raised a brow at him again, "We stole your precious cargo, remember?" She added, a cocky smirk forming on her lips.

Chibs just stared at her for a moment. Rocco held her breath, not knowing whether being so cocky was the right play, but keeping her mouth shut. "Alright," Chibs spoke after a while, leaning back in his chair again, looking Dee up and down, sizing her up. Rocco could tell that Dee intrigued the scarred man, the way he reacted to her told Rocco that he was going to give her the opportunity to prove herself. "We'll give ye a trial run." He told her, fixing her with a hard stare. "Ye ain't in our good graces yet," He added, his sharp brow rose yet again, "But I'll give ye a chance to prove yerselves useful."

Dee nodded politely in acceptance, knowing that she would prove herself, and knowing that this was just the foot in the door she needed. "I'm honoured, Pres." She answered, and for a moment, Rocco saw her usual calm, collective facade slip into a look of genuine sincerity. "We won't let ya down." She added with a wink, her eyes falling on Tig once more, eyeing the man curiously. Rocco watched the VP scoff, giving his President a slightly incredulous look, unbelieving that he would even entertain the women.

Chibs' eyes widened in response to Dee's promise, and he gave her a warning nod. "Aye," He agreed, his eyes burning into her, "You'll know about it if ye do." He stood from the table, his VP and Sgt following suit. Dee copied, tilting her head to signal all of the girls to do the same and rounded the table to come face to face with the SAMCRO Pres once again.

"Trial run." Chibs spoke, holding out his hand for Dee to shake. She nodded in agreement, taking his hand and giving him a firm, confident shake. "We'll be in touch," He added, raising a brow again as he let her hand go. "Where can we find ye?" He asked.

"Rocco," Dee nodded to indicate her Road Captain, "Will give you the address." She explained, to which Rocco nodded in confirmation. "We look forward to working with you." Dee added, the signature cocky smirk on her face as usual.

Rocco chanced one last glance at Happy as she left, that same strange feeling stirring inside her, a mixture of fear and intrigue.

This was going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Credit/Song Inspiration: Glory - Hollywood Undead


	3. Redwoody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm sorry for the late updates. I won't disappoint by making promises for dates of chapters/timeframes, I'm just going to ask anyone reading to bear with me and I will update when I can. <3

“So now we’re babysitting a bunch of porn stars.” Rocco almost scoffed. It wasn’t the business she was turning her nose up at, but the task.

“Hey, I’m into it.” Ringo shrugged, flashing Rocco a smirk. Ringo was into just about anything, she was definitely the most easy-going of the bunch.

“At least we have babysitters of our own.” Beau added, her eyes travelling Quinn’s massive body, her lashes fluttering as she did.

Rocco rolled her eyes in response. That girl could flirt with a lamppost, and probably get it turned on, too.

Rocco wasn’t surprised; with her dark eyes, long, thick locks, and perfectly sculpted cheekbones, her fellow magpie caught the eye of men wherever she went.

Her own eyes landed on their other babysitter, who just so happened to be the tattoo covered object of her recent affections.

She wasn’t sure what exactly drew her to Happy so much, but she couldn’t shake her intrigue about him.

“I just think it’s a waste of our talent.” She explained, fighting a groan as she spotted Beau checking out Happy as well.

“Beau,” She snapped, a warning tone in her voice. She didn’t want Beau’s promiscuity to interfere with their newly made alliance. She knew it meant too much to Dee to compromise. Plus, she might have had another reason to snap Beau out of it.

She ran a hand through her hair as the two men approached, her eyes never leaving them until they reached the three women. Only then did she return to surveying the porn studio, Redwoody, that they’d been assigned to keep an eye on. Their task was to break up any trouble that might occur. To Rocco, that meant cat fights, which was far below their abilities, in her books.

“Hey boys,” Beau spoke, her tone flirty as always, “Come to make sure we’re not making any trouble?” She asked, her tone sickly-sweet, no doubt trying to wind the pair of them up.

Rocco rolled her eyes again, exchanging a look with Ringo as Beau began to flirt. Honestly, with that girl, it was to be expected.

“Quinn, right?” Beau asked the tall man, even though Rocco was sure she knew all of the guys’ names by now. “And Happy?” She asked, Rocco’s skin prickling as she spoke his name.

The two of them nodded in turn, Beau batting her lashes the whole time. “I like that name,” She purred, her tone flirty and her finger twirling her hair.

To Rocco’s surprise, though, Happy rolled his eyes before fixing his stare on Beau, completely oblivious to her charms.

Rocco hadn’t ever seen anyone resist Beau, the woman‘s allure was unparalleled. “Hmm, suits you.” Rocco found herself murmuring before she could stop herself, the taunt tumbling from her lips.

Her eyes flashed to meet Happy’s momentarily, embarrassed for her slip up, but she caught the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Obviously, he’d heard her.

Rocco was surprised to see the look of amusement on his face, and she cocked her head, her brow furrowing. Perhaps behind that stony exterior, he actually did have a sense of humour.

Like her, though, it appeared it would take a little digging to reach it.

“Beau,” Ringo, spoke, snapping Rocco out of her thoughts, “VP’s checkin’ you out.” She tipped her head in the direction of Tig, who Rocco had been too distracted to notice had arrived at the porn studio.

She cursed herself internally, not usually one to lose track of who was in a room. Ringo eyed her curiously as Beau bounded off in the direction of the curly-haired biker, who seemed to be the only guy present willing to play with her.

Rocco couldn’t help the heat rising in her cheeks under her best friend’s gaze, knowing that the only person alive who could read her like a book was Ringo.

She knew full-well that the red-headed woman would be grilling her about all this later, and she suppressed a groan, mad at herself for giving her emotions away.

“I’m going to smoke.” She announced, wanting to disappear from view to compose herself.

“Me too,” Happy piped up, fixing her with a stare when she almost whined in protest. “We’re supposed to keep an eye on you.” He explained simply, not elaborating further.

“Fine,” Rocco shrugged, trying to look indifferent but pissed at him for following her when she was trying to escape him.

She headed outside, giving Beau one last eye roll on her way out. Once she was out of the porn studio, she found herself a nice spot to lean against the wall, lighting her cigarette.

She watched as Happy followed her, standing about half a meter away and pulling a blunt out of his kutte, lighting it up.

“You know we can do more than babysit pornstars, right?” She spoke after a while, her embarrassment from before fading.

Happy looked over at her, raising a brow, but saying nothing as his eyes met hers. His stare was enough to strike fear into most, but Rocco was never one to back down from a challenge.

“Not a talker?” She asked, letting him know she wasn’t going to give up on squeezing a conversation from him.

Happy sighed when he realised Rocco wasn’t going to just let him smoke and he turned his attention away from her again as he finally spoke.

“Chibs doesn’t do stuff without a reason.” He answered her first statement cryptically, ignoring her question completely.

Rocco rolled her eyes. She figured the task was just Chibs poking fun at the girls, and that’s what had her back up so badly about it.

“It’s a waste of our talents.” She retorted, her irritation overpowering her logical instinct to keep her mouth shut.

Happy fixed her with a hard stare, but Rocco saw his expression falter a little, the corners of his mouth turning up with amusement.

“If you say so.” He shrugged. He kept his eyes fixed on her, watching her as she smoked. His gaze was a little unnerving, but at the same time, Rocco realised she kind of liked the intimidation.

Something about the way he looked her over, like she was some kind of prey he was hunting, sent a tingle through her nervous system.

She finished up her cigarette, flicking the butt away after stubbing it on the wall and pushed herself to stand up straight.

“You comin’, bodyguard?” She asked, raising a brow in Happy’s direction and smirking a little.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he followed her back into the studio. Rocco figured she could get used to babysitting pornstars, if it meant she could continue to chip away at Happy’s tough exterior.

“Surprised she hasn’t gotten you naked yet,” Rocco teased Tig as she returned to their little group, her head tilting in Beau’s direction, earning her a middle finger from the girl.

“Give it a little time, Doll.” Tig smirked in response. Clearly, Beau had succeeded in changing the VP’s mind about the magpies.

Rocco fake-gagged as she took a seat beside Ringo, resigning herself to their watch over the porn studio.

After a couple more hours, the girls had finally finished their shift, and they headed to the house that Dee had chosen as their makeshift HQ until they could get things into place to set up a more permanent residence.

Rocco leaned against the kitchen counter while the others relayed the mundane events of the day to their President, something she deemed a waste of time since they’d done nothing particularly noteworthy.

“You think he’s just fucking with us?” She asked Dee once the others had finished, wondering if her Pres really trusted this MC as much as she appeared to.

“Trust in the system, Roc.” She spoke in response, smirking at her skeptical road captain. “Chibs is testing us,” Dee added, explaining her words when it seemed Rocco still wasn’t convinced.

“He’s showing us it’s not always action. These guys don’t have to fight for their status like we do – they’re already established.” She gave Rocco a look, making sure she was really taking in what she was saying.

“They’re not under constant threat because they *are* the threat. Which means, some days will be boring.” Rocco listened intently, trusting the judgement of her President even if she was still skeptical of the Sons.

“If we’re going to work with them, that means all of it, not just the shoot-outs and bike chases.” She added with a smirk. Rocco nodded in response, deciding to keep her opinions to herself.

She still deemed babysitting pornstars a waste of time, but if it was what it took to show her loyalty to her club and get into the good books of the Sons, she’d suck it up.

“Go home,” Dee spoke, nodding to all of the girls, “You never know what will happen tomorrow, so get some rest.” She said by way of dismissal.

They all headed out to their respective residences, Rocco’s being a bar that the club had purchased, the aim to make it the official clubhouse for the magpies.

She bolted the door once she was inside, heading straight to bed, just as her President had instructed, her mind filled with apprehension over the business deal they’d entered into.


	4. I Stayed Up Again

“Rosseau? You’re here again?” 

Rocco moved her arm from over her eyes, sitting herself up on the metal bed she was lying on.

“Missed you, Chief.” She quipped back, flashing the older police chief a smirk.

He rolled his eyes, turning his attention from the street-rat taking up his cell and addressing his deputy instead.  
“I told you to leave that one.” He spoke quietly, “Just move them on.” He added. 

Rocco wandered over to the cell door as he spoke, wanting to catch the conversation. 

“Uh, she assaulted an officer, Chief.” The nervous deputy stuttered, defending his decision to arrest Rocco.

The chief sighed, exasperated. “Yeah, so that she could get a roof over her head for the night.” He explained, his head turning finally to give Rocco a deep scowl.   
“Get her out of there, she’s hogging up my cell.” He snapped at the deputy, who scampered over, searching for the key as he did. 

“Aw, come on, Owens,” Rocco finally re-joined the conversation, “Just one more night?” She pleaded, her tone light, but really she could do with the shelter. 

“Stop assaulting my officers, Rosseau.” Owens spoke, ignoring Rocco’s question completely and wagging a patronising finger in her face. 

Rocco rolled her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t be able to swindle another night of relative safety. 

“I don’t want to see you in my cell for at least another two weeks, Rosseau.” Owens told her once he’d led her outside after the deputy had been through the process of releasing her. 

Rocco gave the older man a sarcastic smile, deciding it wasn’t worth hanging around any longer. 

Owens sighed pityingly as he watched the young woman leave. Somewhere deep inside himself, he felt bad for the girl, having to scrounge for safety the way she did. He didn’t pity her enough to help out, though, and he returned to the warmth and comfort of his office in the precinct. 

“Rosseau!” 

Rocco grimaced when she heard the voice behind her, a voice all too familiar and very much unwelcome this early in the morning. 

“Mickey, I’m not in the mood.” She grumbled as the scruffy looking man approached her regardless. 

“You owe me, Marni.” Mickey spoke, his fist clenching by his side. 

Rocco grimaced again, wishing she’d never taken this slime ball up on his offer of a room for the night a few weeks back. 

She should have known there’d be strings attached, no one on the streets did things out of the good of their hearts. 

“Can’t I catch you later, Mickey?” She pleaded, wanting to have just a moment’s peace before her sorry life caught up with her. 

“No,” Mickey growled, a crazy gleam in his eye, “Now.”   
Rocco stifled a groan, not wanting to find out what would happen if she refused. 

Mickey wasn’t a big man, and he wasn’t particularly fearsome, but Rocco knew he was scrappy, and batshit crazy. 

She grabbed him by the arm, ducking into a small alley beside the precinct. 

She wasn’t concerned about being caught really; she knew Owens wouldn’t arrest either of them, they weren’t worth his time. 

She pushed Mickey against the wall, hiding her disgust at herself as she dropped to her knees before him, hoping this would be the last time...

Rocco woke with a shudder, clenching her jaw to stop herself from retching at the memory.   
It had been a long time since her past had found its way into her nightmares. 

Since Dee had found her, her life had been turned around, her days of fighting to survive on the street a distant memory.   
She didn’t know what had dragged it back into her subconscious, but this was the fourth time she’d been woken by the nightmares tonight. 

Giving up on sleep, she pulled herself up out of bed and trudged downstairs into the bar, turning to alcohol to drown her memories out instead. 

She grabbed a bottle of whatever cheap whiskey she’d brought for temporary use and poured herself a large glass, leaning over the bar as she sipped the burning liquid. 

She was just envisioning the way she wanted her bar to look when she heard a pounding on the door, her heart leaping into her throat. 

She checked the time, 2:34 am. She definitely wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour, so she reached under the bar for the gun she kept taped there, in case of trouble.   
Creeping over to the door, Rocco held her breath as she peered into the peephole, her eyes focusing to see Taz fidgeting nervously. 

She sighed, tucking the weapon into her waistband and pulling back the deadbolt to open the door. 

“Jesus, Taz,” She said, grabbing her fellow magpie by the elbow and pulling her inside quickly, “Scared the shit outta me.” She grumbled, turning back to the door to bolt it back up. 

“Sorry, Roc...” Taz mumbled, scratching at her wrist, her nails reddening the skin there. 

“You look like shit,” Rocco commented, nodding toward the bar, indicating the disheveled blonde to take a seat. 

“I can’t sleep...” Taz explained, her eyes catching Rocco’s, hoping she wouldn’t ask why. She didn’t fancy the pitying looks that her withdrawal symptoms usually earned her. 

“Yeah, me either.” Rocco told her, grabbing another glass and pouring out some more whiskey, which she pushed across the bartop toward Taz. 

“You need something else?” She asked, wanting to help Taz take the edge off. Rocco knew that she’d come to her because she knew how to address the problem without actually saying it.   
She’d seen enough junkies in her time to know her way around a relapse. 

Taz nodded, grateful for her skirting around the elephant in the room. 

Rocco grabbed the small, decorative tin she kept on the top shelf for Taz related emergencies, taking out a joint and handing it over, along with a lighter.   
She watched as the blonde lit up, the relief immediately washing over the skinny woman as she inhaled. 

“How come you can’t sleep?” Taz asked after a few more puffs, sounding a lot more like herself than before.   
Rocco rolled her eyes, not wanting to get too deep into it. 

“Old nightmares.” She settled on, knowing Taz would understand. 

Each of them came from nothing, no good street rats that Dee rounded up and adopted into the club. She saved their lives, gave them a home, a family. 

“You still worried about working with the Sons?” Taz asked, raising a brow across the bar.   
Rocco stiffened a little, unaware that the blonde had cottoned on to her doubts. Usually, it was Ringo that knew what Rocco was thinking, but apparently Taz had been more observant than she’d let on. 

“I’m not worried.” Rocco defended, though it wasn’t strictly true. “I trust Dee’s judgement.” She added.   
That one wasn’t a lie; Rocco would follow Dee to the end of the Earth without question. 

“I just,” She sighed, studying Taz’s eyes for a moment before deciding to confide in her, “We’ve always survived alone. Why the alliance now?”   
Taz thought for a moment, pondering Rocco’s question before shrugging. 

“Dee always has her reasons.” Was all she offered in response.   
Rocco nodded, though she still didn’t understand. She usually understood Dee’s reasons, which was why this particular move was bothering her so much. She couldn’t work out the goal. 

“You wanna stay here tonight?” She asked Taz, draining the rest of her whiskey from the glass. 

Taz gave her a nod, ashing out the finished joint she’d been smoking and casting a glance in the direction of the door to ensure they’d locked it behind them. 

Rocco stashed her weapon back under the bartop, flicking off the lights and leaving her glass to clean in the morning before leading the way up the stairs for a few more hours of what would inevitably be broken sleep and unwelcome nightmares. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title/Song Inspiration: Sober - Pink


End file.
